Memory

  I’ve walked so far and gotten nowhere. I contain endless memories yet I own nothing. My heart knows the falling out the falling down the falling away it remembers breaking and dreams of ascending and the endless labors which daily life is famous for. Titanic, lying memories forfeiting time lay in shards at my…

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I wish I had Wings

I wish I had wings I’d leave this prison of gravity behind and go up and up grazing the tops of dazzling green trees swaying in the wind I’d soar through the mists of bright clouds breathing in freedom and moist particles of fog and rain I’d turn my face to the sun warm warming…

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The Land

The land- she does not know ownership nor boundaries languages nor skin moving where she will inside or out of our impositions she takes the sun from all corners and the rain from all directions. ~ Janavi Held © 2017

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Time Unhinged

Video with spoken poetry below   Time Unhinged Dreamt of exterminated images, and forgotten doubts, of unhinged time with the hollow of silent bones thundering in the wake of restless flowers. Blinded by a vigilant morning I enter the mists of loneliness seeking laughter and daydreams (to counter the emptiness) too long for counting these…

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It’s raining

It’s raining I sit where I love to be in the half light melting into the starving earth leaves glow mirrors reflect everything I think I see. ~ Janavi Held © 2017

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“Letters to My Oldest Friend” is now available on Amazon

Purchase now on Amazon Reviews In praise of Letters to My Oldest Friend Like many God-inspired poets of India’s Bhakti or devotional past (Mirabai and Chandidas come easily to mind), Janavi Held—writer, photographer, cineaste, observer of small miracles—chronicles the arrhythmia of a heart in love with Divinity. Letters to My Oldest Friend is a revelation.…

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Monsoon Dreams

  Monsoon Dreams Bleached and tattered bark of tree leaves mired in wild wind endless sights of fragrant meadows transparence filtering flying pollen and wet laden clouds with white and gray monsoon dreams inside atoms resides the restless Master playing in a forest of His own making. Janavi Held © 2017 My book of poetry…

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“Letters to My Oldest Friend” is now available on Amazon in hardcover & the softcover is available for pre-order

Purchase now on Amazon Reviews In praise of Letters to My Oldest Friend Like many God-inspired poets of India’s Bhakti or devotional past (Mirabai and Chandidas come easily to mind), Janavi Held—writer, photographer, cineaste, observer of small miracles—chronicles the arrhythmia of a heart in love with Divinity. Letters to My Oldest Friend is a revelation.…

Read more “Letters to My Oldest Friend” is now available on Amazon in hardcover & the softcover is available for pre-order

Divine Names

Divine Names Your divine Names wander into my words my open mouth drinking that temptation is utterly fed here sitting under another spring sky. We have been together for so long yet, during the cold, wet winter I forgot to be happy forgot the feeling of Your warm air on my skin and how Your…

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Look a Little Harder

Look a Little Harder For value in the heart underneath the skin in the eyes bright the designs clouds make at the love even if it’s far at the moon sliver, at the way the light rises at dawn look a little harder the love is there perhaps under a mossy rock in the churning…

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Flooding

Flooding Within the shadowy waters of illusion I built thick castle walls sunken deep in those hazy waters my heart froze and slept for eons. Awakened from this deep sleep of ignorance by a flood of Your liberating monsoon rain You’ve opened the sky in my heart and the walls of my fortress are a…

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Out on This Natural limb

Out on This Natural limb   On the ends of wind-waving branches I build my residence watching all manner of creatures grow into living the fragrance of the wind carrying pollen and ozone feeds my inner ocean as long fingers of sunlight reach the vast expanse of my seeing. Out on this natural limb I…

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Soaked

Soaked   A dead sea soaks in memory its form now shapeless has far to go to be lost to the little bits of thought still swimming its dry banks.   My thoughts swell memories tremble there old incomplete sentences structured in timeless yawning, titanic clouds blocking the realness of now.   Janavi Held © 2017…

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Horizon

Horizon   I move too as the waves pierce the horizon that distance unattainable longs for me as well to embellish my ears with wind to swallow my eyes inside that insatiable horizon.   Janavi Held © 2017    

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